


rotting flowers; blooming corpses (yet you tell me life is beautiful)

by willowcat33



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cottagecore Aesthetics, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Travel, Zombie Apocalypse, and a littol fluff too, and also your typical dark apocalypse aesthetic, character driven, love... so much love all the love, please I love them so much, they're all a little fucked up but they get better, warnings tagged at the beginning of each chapter!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcat33/pseuds/willowcat33
Summary: It's been 5 years since the zombie apocalypse began; 5 years since the collapse of society. Humanity is alive and well, more or less, but not without losses and sacrifice.Society may be gone, but humanity lives on in the little things. It lives on in Safiya, the leader of a compound for survivors who has far too many problems and not enough hours of sleep to deal with them, and her best friend Jc who can't let go of an unhealthy grudge. It lives on in Mat, grieving and broken but willing to put it all on the line for the sake of Teala, anxious but kind, another bright spark of humanity, who he saved from the jaws of death but a few months ago. And it lives in Manny and Nikita, a pair of best friends who have nothing but each other; yet a rift between them grows deeper every day and it threatens to suck them down if it finally splits open.Humanity lives on, that much is certain, but how long until these humans crack under the strain of this new life?[in other words; the apocalypse, but make it gay, traumatic and sprinkled with cottagecore aesthetics.]
Relationships: ( + theres more friendships but im only tagging the majorest ones for space), The Daredevil | Roi Fabito/The Super Spy | Teala Dunn, The Detective | Matthew Patrick & The Super Spy | Teala Dunn, The Detective | Matthew Patrick/The Record Producer | Manny MUA, The Disco Dancer | Colleen Ballinger/The Investigative Reporter | Safiya Nygaard (past), The Investigative Reporter | Safiya Nygaard/The Troublemaker | Nikita Dragun, The Record Producer | Manny MUA & The Troublemaker | Nikita Dragun
Comments: 87
Kudos: 36





	1. fields rollin' on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ chapter title from mitski's " strawberry blonde " ]
> 
> tws: self deprecation (though it's squint and you'll miss it), general anxiousness, food & a little swearing

_It’s a cold morning for this time of year_ , Safiya thinks. Considering the fact that it’s only the middle of July, she shouldn’t be worrying about the winter; yet the chill in the air this morning sends her thoughts whirling. The prospect of fighting the weather, again, just like they have had to do for the past 5 years over and over already puts a weariness in her bones and an unsettled feeling in her stomach.

Leaning over the edge of her balcony, she watches her breath mist just slightly as she sighs, before drifting and scattering into the breeze. She’s exhausted; then again, she more or less always is these days. She couldn’t let her eyes close for even a minute last night, even though they ache and the bruises gather further under her eyes each time she does this.

She’ll crash at some point during the afternoon- this she knows. She knows this as well as she knows the familiar ache in her shoulders from her complete lack of rest. But, to her, the ache of her bones is better than the pain of the nightmares would have been if she had dared try and sleep through the night at all.

And when she eventually does crash, she will sleep until the evening, and wake up hungry and disorientated. She’s done this enough times to know the pattern her abused body follows every time she treats herself poorly. But nothing crucial or overly important has happened in a few days, so she feels safe taking a day to continue to fuck her sleep schedule over. If it’s that important, Jc will wake her, and if anything else happens he and Eva can take care of it.

Her friends are so good to her. Better than she deserves, in her opinion, forever patient with her borderline nocturnal behaviour. Forever patient with the days in which she just goes completely silent and catatonic for hours on end, because existing is too hard. Safiya tries her best to return each favour in kind; even though her free time is practically non-existent some days. They make it work, the three of them- this little society of survivors in relative safety. 

Even if Eva and Jc are at each others throats 89% of the time, something in her reminds. She sighs, trying to put her anxieties out of her head, distracting herself instead by staring out over the horizon.

The sun is only just coming up, peeking over the treeline and sending lines of golden light scattering over the fields. The temperature isn’t really getting any hotter yet, but it will do soon, so Saf lets the cold air wash over her face and enjoys it whilst she can. It’s refreshing against her aching body, tingles that mix with the ache of her bones and strangely, minutely, soothes her pain a little.

_Maybe today will be better…?_

She sighs softly, letting herself cling to the thought and the quiet amount of hope that remains in the bottom of her heart at the words. Saf is no stranger to the concept of having to drag herself along, taking each day as it comes, so she supposes she’ll just have to do that once more.

After a while, she stands up straighter, rolling her shoulders until they crack in a satisfactory manner. Safiya turns, letting the rays of the rising sun paint her back in gold as she walks off the balcony and back into her room.

-

Mat makes his way through the trees, relatively relaxed for once. Sure, his shoulders are tense and he has one hand on his crowbar at all times, but anyone would be careful in times like this. After a close call with a small hoard of zombies last night, he isn't willing to risk his own safety or that of his travelling companion.

_And speaking of her…_

"Teala? You coming?" He calls out, looking over his shoulder. Panic rises like vomit in his throat for a second when he can't see her, but then he hears the quiet crunch of the undergrowth as she comes stumbling through.

"Hi, sorry, sorry- look what I found!" She hurries over, falling into step beside him, catching her breath with a giddy grin. Teala holds up two cupped hands; it seems what she's found that distracted her was a blackberry bush. Her arms are scratched by what must have been thorns, sleeves still rolled up against the mid-summer heat. 

"Are you sure these are safe?" Mat raises an eyebrow quizzically, concern for her safety still threatening to put weights on his lungs.

"Mhm! I mean, I should hope so, I've eaten like five." She laughs sheepishly, popping another berry in her mouth. Mat can tell she’s being truthful from the way her lips are stained a blackish purple. "Want one?"

Mat is about to turn her down, before succumbing to the brightness in her smiling eyes as easily as he always does. "Sure, I'll have a berry."

She holds her hands out to him, and he takes a berry with a murmur of thanks. Teala is right, he realises as he eats the blackberry; they're delicious. The burst of tart sweetness against his tongue cuts through the static fog that had settled at the edge of his mind. He doesn’t think he’s had blackberries since before the virus hit, come to think of it. They remind him of years gone by; of simpler times, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a soft smile.

"They taste pretty good, right?" 

There's something in the way she looks at him that makes him think she needs to hear his approval. So he nods, humming in acknowledgement but continuing to walk, satisfied at the smile it brings to her face. This time, Teala keeps pace, the two friends traversing the woods together.

It's a pretty nice day; the birds are chirping, even though it's not as much as he would have been used to in years past. Turns out zombie apocalypses aren't good for local bird populations, apparently. Still, Mat lets himself relax ever so slightly and take peace in the relative safety of the woods they find themselves in. 

The two friends settle into a comfortable almost silence as they walk, only broken by the crunch of undergrowth underfoot. Another day, another chunk of progress in their endless travel in hopes of safety. Mat has his doubts in the reality of this compound they’re seeking out, but he’s seen Teala hopeless before and he’s praying he’ll never have to see her like that again. And furthermore; if Mat himself was the one to hurt her feelings that badly he doubts he’d be able to forgive himself.

Mat is dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of rushing water. He blinks, coming back to focus in as he and Teala stop by the side of a small river. 

"Here- toss me your water bottle?" Teala offers, already unscrewing her own as she crouches by the water's edge. "Keep a lookout for me, please."

"Of course." Mat hands her his water bottle before taking his crowbar in hand and pacing behind her. He picks at a long dried blood fleck on the end of the weapon anxiously, eyes flicking across the treeline. It wouldn't make sense for anyone to follow them, nor would it be likely for zombies to start flooding the area. Mat knows this. And yet as always, rationale does nothing to soothe his paranoia.

Behind him he can hear the sounds of the river as it gurgles and sloshes, pushing water into the metal interiors of their filtered bottles. He can also hear Teala humming softly under her breath; a now-familiar tune he's picking up from being in her company so long. Mat still doesn't recognize the melody - he’s never found much time for music in this new world - but it's soft and sweet. The fact that Teala hums it absent-mindedly whenever she starts to relax is something he does indeed know and it warms his heart.

Teala's happiness always causes an odd sort of chain reaction in Mat. He pauses in his pacing for a moment, smiling slightly as he watches her work, a sense of peace washing over him. But he snaps out of it soon enough, not letting himself get distracted further as he continues to keep an eye out.

“Okay, done,” Teala calls eventually, straightening up as she shakes her bottle a little.

Mat takes his from where she’s holding it out, raising an eyebrow at her as he takes a sip. The water is refreshingly cold, easing some of the aches in his travel-weary body.

“You do know that shaking it doesn’t make it filter any faster, or any better, right?”

“And you do know that you’re meant to wait a minute before you drink from the filter?” She shoots back with a laugh.

He shrugs, uncaring. “Fair.”

“Now c’mon, Mat let’s go find a crossing point.” Teala sighs, stretching as she waits for the water to filter before taking a long sip. The pair take a moment to quench their thirst, before refilling the bottles again for later. Then, casting one final look over the treeline, just in case, Mat nods and turns back to Teala so they can start to search for a good place to cross this river.

The two friends continue to walk, trudging alongside the riverbank. Searching for a place to cross, they talk amicably about nothing significant. It’s another conversation that will be forgotten by the end of the day but it’s good, so good to have the company of another person again. Mat has a lot of regrets in his life, and a lot of sorrow, but taking Teala under his wing the way he did just a few months ago will never be one of them.

He slides his crowbar back into the loop on the side of his backpack as they walk- still easy to grab if he needs it, but leaving his hands free for when they cross the river. Teala knocks their shoulders together as she tells some stupid joke, and he laughs, nudging her in return. This casual back-and-forth of their physical affection brings a genuine smile to Mat’s face; smiles like that are something else Teala brought back into his life.

Eventually, Mat spots a place where a fallen tree has come down across the river, wedged between the banks and rocks to provide what looks like a semi-decent bridge. “Here?”

“Seems as good a place as any. I’ll go first!” Teala volunteers, tightening the straps of her backpack around her with a deep breath. Mat steps to the side with a curt nod; he’s more than willing to let her go first, considering the fact that she’s lighter, and smaller, and a better swimmer, and okay sure maybe he’s a little afraid of falling but what’s that got to do with anything?

Doesn’t mean his heart rate doesn’t spike as she steps up onto the log, arms out for balance. In all honesty, he’s more than a little terrified of anything bad happening to her.

“Careful, Teala…” he murmurs, biting his lip. She hums, barely acknowledging his comment before she skitters across the log, arms out and fleetfooted. Teala safely makes it across the log, making it seem almost effortless as she hops off the end.

“It’s perfectly safe! Just go for it, don’t overthink it.”

As she calls out to him, Mat lets out a breath he almost hadn’t realised he’d been holding. _A little late for not overthinking…_

Nonetheless, he nods, stepping onto the log on his end. He flexes his feet anxiously, sticking his arms out in a somewhat awkward manner. Mat is nowhere near as graceful as Teala, who looks like a bird in flight, poised when she tries to balance, and his arms shake a little.

“You’re alright!” She calls out encouragement from the opposite bank, and he nods, trying to ignore the dryness in his mouth. Mat takes a deep breath and then he’s gone, going as fast as he can across the log.

Thankfully, it isn’t wet, so his shoes don’t struggle to grip the surface as much as he’d feared he would. His mind is empty apart from a blur of panicked thoughts but the next thing he knows he’s hopping off between the roots.

Teala whoops, tugging him in for a sympathetic hug. “You did good.”

“Ah… thanks,” He mutters the words awkwardly, trying to catch his breath and letting himself lean into her for a few precious moments before pulling away.

She still seems relaxed, smiling as her eyes flick through the forest ahead of them. “We’re still going the right way, right?”

Mat pulls the compass from his pocket, letting it rest flat in his open palm until he knows which way is north. “Yeah, we’re still facing east. Ready to keep going?”

Teala nods, eyes sparkling as she darts off into the trees, seemingly energised. Mat rolls his eyes, a quiet chuckle falling from his lips before he steels himself, taking a sip of water. Maybe all these dozens of miles won’t be as bad with her at his side; maybe she’s already made things way better than they would’ve been for him on his own. Dismissing the thoughts, deciding to try live in the present moment for once, he tucks his water bottle away.

With a quick call for her to “Wait up, Teala!-”, he’s taking off after her in a casual jog to begin the next section of their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!! if you did please remember that comments help me keep powering through to keep writing, and kudos are also hella appreciated!
> 
> and since this is new I'll let you know now; I have a little bit of a backlog of chapters to upload, so with a little luck I'll be uploading semi regularly- see you in a week ;)!  
> ❤️


	2. wait for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ chapter title from hadestown's " wait for me " ]
> 
> tws: abandonment issues, minor panic attacks, paranoia, lots of crying

At this point, Teala is half convinced that this forest goes on forever. Mat and herself have been travelling through these woods for what feels like an eternity; when in reality it’s only been a handful of days. But ever since they slipped into the cover of pines and oaks to get away from a small hoard of zombies, the horizon (if you could even call it a horizon) has been unchanging. Staring into the distance, as far as the eye can see it is just trees, on every side, occasionally broken by the odd rock or other natural feature but mostly trees.

And it is driving Teala just a little bit up the wall. Sure, it’s nice to feel relatively safe (even if that could be shattered at any moment) but the monotony of their walk makes her feel like they’re not going anywhere new; not progressing at all. Mat does make a general note of this, and every night as they set camp will point out how far they’ve come by unfolding his map and doing the math. She appreciates it, really she does, and it helps a little but she still struggles to equate that with the endless miles of walking through trees.

So she finds herself more easily distracted. Even when Teala is meant to be keeping watch for her half of the night, she finds herself gazing into the middle-distance and daydreaming. She feels awful about this; about the prospect of accidentally leaving herself and Mat exposed to danger when he’s trusted her to make sure they can sleep safely just because she can’t focus. But try as she might, it feels like there’s not much she _can_ do to fix this.

It’s not even only limited to the nighttime. Sometimes, Mat will be explaining where they’re going next only to realise she’s away with the fairies halfway through. He’s patient with her, though; more than happy to explain two or three times until it finally sinks in. It’s a small mercy. One that Teala sometimes feels like she hasn’t earned at all, but at least it helps her get through the days. 

Being unfocussed also means she’s easier to distract. She inspects each boulder they find and each interesting bush; partly because it’s something that isn’t a tree, and part for signs of human activity. It’s probably futile and hopeless; she knows they’re still many, many miles from the location that this compound supposedly exists in. But still; Teala is nothing if not incredibly hopeful for this sort of thing. 

She almost definitely won’t find signs of the compound, though maybe anything signalling some form of safety, but something to prove they’re not entirely alone would be nice. Well; complete isolation (apart from Mat, of course) would be preferable to discovering a troop of raiders or hostile jerks or-

 _Okay, maybe near solitude_ is _the best option._ She heaves a deep breath, trying to get herself under control before her thoughts can spiral.

Spotting another cluster of intriguing rocks, she calls out to Mat for a quick water break. When he answers with an affirmative noise, Teala breaks into a grin, scurrying over to pick up a rock. There's something odd about it; it feels weirdly weighted, so on a whim, she attempts to break it open with the hilt of a small knife she carries on her belt for utility and self-defence. She's stumbled across the odd geode in her time, and even if they're not exactly her speciality she has a lot of curiosity.

Eventually the rock cracks, and splits, and she widens the hole enough for the rock to fall into two pieces. A soft gasp falls out of her mouth at the glittering purple crystals; hundreds and hundreds of tiny beautiful shards. She runs the pad of one of her thumbs over it, delighting in the cold sensation; it drags across her skin, although not quite hard enough to catch or tear anything.

"Mat! I found another geode-" She calls out excitedly, before pausing. Something doesn't feel right. Staring at her reflection, shattered and distorted across crystals, she takes in just how frightened she suddenly looks.

"Mat?" She says, softly as she turns around. Her friend is nowhere in sight, and dread drops into the bottom of her pocket like a ton of bricks. Hastily she stands up, cramming the two halves of the geode into side pockets of her backpack.

Teala knows the first thing to do when you realise you're alone is not to panic. Hell, she's been taught that since she was a kid. But all she can see in her brain is the last time it happened and the two people who ended up dead because of it and she feels sick. Sick, and dizzy, and like every fibre of her being is alight in the worst way possible.

Tightening her pack around her torso once more, she clutches at the straps and starts walking. 

_With a little luck, Mat just… kept going! Yeah, that's right._ She soothes herself with the thought. She's also desperately hoping that she'd been paying enough attention and the way she's walking now is, in fact, the way they were travelling. _He wouldn't leave me.. would me? He responded to my call for a break._

Teala nearly stumbles at that thought, breath catching like talons in her throat. When her breath eventually rips free it emerges as a shaky sob. She picks up the pace, only not resorting to calling Mat's name out of alerting any zombie's in the area.

 _And maybe,_ the still sane part of her snarks as tears fill her deep brown eyes and threaten to spill over. _Maybe you'll be able to find him before you have a full-on panic attack, huh?_

-

Mat is deep in thought. As nice as the crunch of twigs and bracken beneath his feet is, it does little to keep his mind from wandering. Whenever he thinks about this supposed safe compound that they’re meant to be heading to, he has a lot of questions.

_How can a whole group of people live in one place without being worried about one of them turning? Even one person getting infected could be lethal in enclosed spaces. And where do they get their food? Stockpiles? Can’t be, we’re five years in, most stockpiles are running low; it’s hard enough to scavenge food for a couple of people. They must have some sustainable source… the same for water, too, though that’s not as hard._

But even as Mat runs through situations and ideas of how this compound could possibly function, _thrive_ even, over and over again in his head, one question still stands clear above the rest. More of a sort of nagging anxiety than just a plain question at this point.

_Is it even real? Or have we been on a wild goose chase for months?_

Mat lets out a soft sigh, pushing his fingers through his hair, a familiar nervous habit that never seemed to go away through the years. He’s been avoiding this topic - of the risk that they’re taking in even trusting in the compound’s existence - for some while now, but he’s feeling like it should really be addressed today. Turning around, he opens his mouth to speak-

“Teala, we should- ...Teala?” He cuts himself off, brow furrowing in confusion. The woman is nowhere to be seen, and he can’t hear the familiar crunching of her boots on the forest floor anywhere nearby.

Fighting panic, he forces himself to take a breath. This is far from the first time that the younger of the two of them has wandered away; she’ll be back in a minute or two. Hopefully. He calls out for her nonetheless, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth when he gets no response. 

Mat's heart is pounding in his chest as he leans up against a tree, trying to breathe well enough to be able to think. In his panicked state, he fidgets with the ring on his finger, twisting the simple gold band round and round, yanked up past the knuckle to avoid catching his skin and twisting that with it. He squeezes his eyes shut against a wall of memories, focussing on sucking air into his aching chest.

_In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Hold for four._

He focuses on the instructions to himself, repeating them over and over and twisting the ring in time with the words.

"Think," he murmurs to himself. As he speaks, his words cut through the stark silence around him for only a second, serving only to reinforce his aching loneliness. "When did you see her last?"

Thinking back to conversations that same morning, he remembers walking with her through the woods, and talking, and-

_Oh. Oh no._

She'd asked him to stop. Teala had asked for a water break, and worse than that he'd told her that they could stop. And nevertheless he'd wandered away, the thought alone making guilt send his heart plummeting into the pit of his stomach. With shaking hands he takes the compass from his pocket, hurrying to find west before shoving it back safely away as he sets off at a brisk pace to find her.

-

Meanwhile, Teala is fighting with her mind to keep herself from panicking. She holds her crossbow armed and ready as she hurries through the woods: without Mat by her side, she feels distinctly more exposed and vulnerable to attacks.

Her breaths are shallow and hitch on every other inhale, and at this point she can't quite tell if it's because of all this running or because of the sudden urge to cry like a lost child. Afraid of history repeating herself, she steels herself just barely and continues onward.

Eventually, she comes to the edge of a clearing, taking a second to breathe as she breaks through the undergrowth. Teala freezes when she can hear footsteps hurrying through the forest in her direction. She loads her weapon, raising it and preparing to fire at a moment's notice.

A figure comes stumbling into the clearing, skidding to a halt at the sight of her and she would've put a bolt through their neck if she hadn't realised who it was at the very last second.

 _" Mat!"_ She breaks into a relieved grin, trying to hide the way her eyes well up with tears and her voice wobbles. Fumbling with the mechanism as her fingers refuse to stop trembling, she disarms her crossbow, slinging it back over her back and running to her friend.

Mat draws her into a tight hug the moment she reaches him, stumbling backwards from the sheer force of her slamming into him. He clutches her close - nose buried into her hair, arms wrapped tightly around her like she'll disappear if he lets go - and it takes Teala a moment to realise that he's sobbing. And then she's crying too, and she can't stop, just sniffling as hot tears roll down her cheeks and soak into the fabric at his shoulder as she holds him close, with two fistfuls of his jacket in her hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm _sorry,_ Teala I- I didn't mean to leave you I _promise_ I didn’t-" Mat rambles, and she shakes her head and buries her face further into his shoulder.

"S'okay…" She mumbles. She knows his jacket is going to get wet with tears but she doesn't have the mental strength to care right now; besides, it's seen worse days. "Shouldn't have gotten distracted. Please just- don't- let's not let this happen again, yeah?"

"Of course. Never." Mat swears, only wrapping his arms tighter around her in reassurance. They hold each other for a few more precious minutes, zombies be damned, simply rocking together upright in the middle of a forest clearing.

After a while, Mat reluctantly pulls away. His hands don't move for a moment longer, though, leaving them resting on her shoulders for one more gentle squeeze before pulling away.

“Should we keep going? We’ve still got a good few hours of daylight left before we have to make camp, but we can always settle down early or at least take a break. Especially if you’re not feeling up to it.” Mat asks gently. It’s his way of continuing his apology, of trying to fix this fuckup of his, and Teala smiles ever so slightly.

She shakes her head, though she takes a moment to hide in the shoulder of his jacket for a little longer. _It’s nice here,_ she thinks, as if she could pretend that the world disappeared and she could just stand here for the end of time. But she can’t; and anyway, Mat is waiting on a proper answer.

“I’m okay to keep going, for a little while longer. Besides… we haven’t been exactly _quiet_ today and I don’t want anything to find us. It’d be safest to keep going.”

Mat nods, accepting her reasoning without question. _Teala is smarter than she takes credit for,_ he muses internally as he retrieves his compass once more. It’s another thing to add to the slowly growing, quiet internal list of odd things he’s noticed about his travelling companion. 

Once he’s sure he knows which way east is, he stows the compass again. This time, however, Mat hesitates, not setting out immediately. Instead, he silently offers his hand to Teala; one part comfort to two parts a promise not to leave her behind this time.

She takes his hand, a soft expression on her face that curls the corners of her lips up ever so slightly. The two friends turn back to the treeline, and start to walk again; this time not wanting to leave each other alone for even a second after the events of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fingerguns] i hope you enjoyed that second chapter! thanks for all the love on the first chapter! any and all further comments are, as always, super appreciated!!
> 
> technically a day early but it IS the 11th here, midnight ish, so I'll fix that in the morning!
> 
> still in the backlog, so see you guys again in a week!  
> ❤


	3. cardboard apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: themes of depression, grief, mourning, mentions of gun use (in a safe, training environment!)
> 
> take care of yourself folks!!

When Safiya wakes up, there’s a tender sadness in the pit of her stomach. It aches, like an old injury that one forgets until its bothering them. She sits up with a groan, pushing long hair out of her face. Blinking the wetness of sleep from her eyes, she leans forward, knees tucked up against her chest comfortably.

As the room comes into focus, her eyes drift across familiar surroundings, noting that nothing has changed, as predicted. Then she glances at the calendar next to her door, across from her bed, and her breath catches in her throat. Her mouth goes dry and she has to lean against the wall for a second whilst the room blurs for a second. Focussing on her breathing, she manages to calm herself just enough to get the room to stop spinning.

She's not crying- not yet, at least, so she makes the most of this moment whilst it lasts. A closer inspection of the calendar - through squinted eyes, being as unwilling to get out of bed as she is - and spotting the discreet blue box around the date confirms only what she'd already feared.

Today is- or at least, it would have been- Colleen’s birthday. Safiya drops her head into her hands with a groan. It has been three years since she lost her now ex-girlfriend, but she still knows this date like the back of her hand and it still breaks her every time. She aches with guilt, missing her every time she thinks about Colleen; so she tries not to. But this time of year weighs heavy on her conscience and puts a lump in her throat that's hard to swallow around.

Restless, but unable to drag herself from the safety of bed just yet, she flops back against the pillows. Messy black hair spills out around her hair like ink drops in water. She stares up at the ceiling, brain tracing patterns between the little bumps to try and push some sort of thoughts in between the static.

Eventually, Safiya can't take it anymore, and she sits up. Giving in to her impulses, she shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, sucking in a breath at the coldness of the floor against her bare feet. She folds over herself, sticking her hand into the gap between the bed frame and floor, rummaging around until she finds it.

The angle is awkward and she fumbles with it until she can tug it out between her feet and pick it until with both hands. What she's retrieved is a cardboard box, a little battered in places from the general wear and tear of life, but still as well taken care of as Safiya can manage at the moment. She picks it up carefully, like a precious fragile thing she's afraid of breaking by breathing on wrong; yet at the same time like a bomb with a lit fuse, ready to explode at a moment's notice.

Safiya scoops it up, sitting cross-legged on her bed. She cradles the box in her lap, almost curled around it in a protective manner. To anyone else it might seem silly but to her? It's her only way of guaranteeing she doesn't lose any more of Colleen. Prising the lid off, she sets it to the side, cushioned amongst the mess that is her duvet, scrunched up around her. 

It's the same handful of items inside as always. Laid out neatly, in a way that makes Saf smile just slightly as she reaches for the few polaroids she'd managed to save. Just a handful, three or four of the tiny photos but it's enough to keep Colleen's face fresh in Safiya's imagination. She rubs a thumb over the white part of the image, smiling down at the photo. It depicts herself, hoisting Colleen up by the waist for an ecstatic and giggly kiss. They’re somewhere cold- snow swirling around the two of them. She doesn't remember the trip, or taking the photo, not anymore, which stings her soul more than she'd like to admit, but she reminds herself she's lucky to have managed to keep hold of the photo. Even if she couldn't hang on to the attached memories.

The second one is just Colleen; She remembers taking this one herself, clear as day.

-

 _"Babe! Hold_ still."

_Colleen had laughed, looking at Safiya over the top of her dark sunglasses. One hand blows Saf a kiss, the other holding on to the edge of her sunhat for dear life as the breeze tossed the ends of her dark hair about._

_It had been a lovely day at the beach, albeit windy, and Safiya had insisted on taking her girlfriend’s photo, mesmorised by the way brown freckles glow golden in the sunlight. Colleen had agreed with very little hesitation at all, though she’d accepted Safiya’s “bribe” of a kiss. And though Safiya didn’t voice her opinion, she thinks the dark red, almost brown, lipstick stain on Colleen’s cheek only adds to the shot as the camera clicks._

_-_

Absentmindedly, Safiya continues to stroke her thumb over the white part of the polaroid in a repetitive motion. She only gets dragged out of the memories in her head when she feels wetness beneath her thumb. Blinking, she glances down and another drop of liquid splashes against the photo and that's when she realises she’s crying. A gasping sob tears free of her throat and she claps a hand over her mouth to silence it. As she clutches the polaroid to her chest she is suddenly overwhelmed with grief, with the feeling of missing her now-ex girlfriend.

She still loves her. She still loves her so much that it hurts, burning in her heart and lungs; the feeling is almost overwhelmingly intense. With shaking fingers she neatly slides the Polaroids back into their packet and drops them back into the box. Safiya goes to withdraw her hands, deciding that's _enough_ for today, and then her fingernail clinks against something metal. She freezes; but even though she knows it's a terrible idea, scoops up the bullet casing with barely a moment's hesitation. She hasn’t picked up a gun in years, but if she casts her mind back far enough she can find a memory attached to this sort of thing that doesn’t make her choke on panicked regret.

-

_The bang of the gun and the click of reloading are becoming a rhythm to Safiya. She's not sure what exactly made her pick up this hobby- down a local indoor shooting range every two weekends whilst Colleen watches from the cafe the next room over- but she's glad she did._

_It's relaxing, in a way, and an interesting skill to have. Takes up all of her focus and lets the word fade away into static apart from her, her gun, and the target._

_After a few weeks of practice and training, she finally gets her first full round of almost-bullseye's, a giddy grin lighting up her face. She scoops up the shell of the last bullet - with permission of course - and shoves it in a pocket. Later by only a few minutes, Colleen tells her just how proud she is and kisses her hard, and it feels good. A laugh bubbles up in her chest and escapes her lips when Colleen declares the bullet casing lucky. A few days later Colleen had stolen the casing and carved their initials in a heart into it messily, which had taken a few tries, evident by the amount of nicks and scratches across the case’s surface. for which Safiya had rolled her eyes and called her a sap._

_-_

Now, rolling smooth, cold empty metal between her fingers, Safiya doubts luck ever existed. Because if fate and luck and all of that _do_ exist, then they are exceptionally cruel beasts. Bitterness swells in her chest and she huffs a sigh, dropping it back into the box. There’s a few more items in the shoebox but she feels drained from even just a little bit of thinking. Safiya shoves the lid back on the box, more roughly than she intended, but there’s no damage done thankfully. Shoulders slumping, she leans forward again and tucks the box back under her bed.

A wave of exhaustion rolls over her; frustratingly so, since she’s barely been awake for half an hour. She’d been doing so well recently, at being able to actually function as a normal diurnal human being, but today is too much already and she just wants to sleep. With shame brewing in the pit of her stomach, she rolls back onto her side, tugging the covers up and over her face as she curls up.

At least it doesn’t take her very long to get back to sleep; even if her nightmares are hellish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically we're out of the backlog now but i'm almost done with chapter four so eh h h hh ?? we'll see!! i'll try to stick to this schedule but no promises, yknow.  
> i'd ALSO like to say a big big thank you to my good friend Birdy for beta reading this chapter, all the previous ones, and hopefully all the future ones too!!  
> seeya around, lovelies! <3<3<3


	4. green as pine, as rotted flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: swearing, zombie attacks, mild injury decription, violence (including a crossbow which isn't a gun but? ill just tag it as firearm violence from now on), mild quickly resolved arguing, mentions of food and eating, insomnia
> 
> (its not too heavy there's just a lot of things that happen, stay safe!)

They’re out of the woods. Both metaphorically  _ and  _ literally, thankfully.

It’s been a long week, but Mat and Teala have finally breached the treeline. Mat can’t deny that he liked the relative privacy and (albeit probably false) sense of security that the woods gave him- but he could see how much the monotony of an unchanging horizon was getting to Teala, so he's glad they're out. For her sake, if nothing else.

However, if he's being truthful, the relative openness of the fields sets him on edge. There's still little copses and patches of trees every now and often, and the odd rock formation but apart from that there's very little cover. Anything could sneak up on them at any time, and whilst they have a better chance of seeing it coming, it’s also easier for them to be found in the first place. It makes Mat antsy; but then again, that seems to be his default state of living these days. He doesn’t bring it up though; there’s a pep in Teala’s step that’s been lacking for a few days and he doesn’t want to ruin her fun. 

Doesn’t mean he hasn’t been keeping his eyes extra peeled when it is his turn to keep watch.

He's paranoid, he knows this is true, but paranoia is keeping Teala and himself  _ safe.  _ And that's all that matters to him, so the paranoia can stay for now. It helps him stay awake during long night watch shifts, eyes trained on the horizon line whilst Teala snatches a few hours of sleep by his side.

Mostly, she seems to sleep peacefully, which is a relief to Mat. His own sleep is fitful and often he wakes up feeling more tired than he did before he went to sleep. The dark bruises under his eyes gather darker each day.

"Still not sleeping well?" Teala asks one morning after she prods him awake. He shakes his head as he sits up, reaching for his orange aviator glasses and shoving them back on his face. It's an odd habit he's picked up; but it's quite sunny anyway this time of year, and  _ he  _ thinks they look cool, so there's nothing wrong with it.

She hums sympathetically as she rolls up her sleeping bag. Even after these years of practice, her attempt is as haphazard as always- but at least she can actually fit it back in its cover and the little compartment at the bottom of her backpack.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Teala asks- softly, hesitantly, like she's approaching a wild animal and trying to get it to not bolt

"Not particularly." His words come out snippier than he intended, but before he can go to apologize he notices something. The sunlight is very bright for this early in the morning, even through the orange tint in his vision. Glancing up, he realises the sun is higher in the sky than normally and his stomach jolts. "Teala- did you let me oversleep?!"

"Only by a couple of hours," she shrugs, turning away from her backpack and stirring something that Mat can't make out over a small cooking fire. "Besides… I thought you could really use the sleep."

"But- but it's like, the middle of the morning! We've got so much distance to cover, and I'm  _ fine  _ for sleep, Teals, really-"

She shushes him, pressing a bowl of porridge into his hands. The rising steam fogs up his sunglasses and he has to set the bowl down in the grass whilst he cleans them.

"Doctor's orders. Now shut up and eat, before your porridge gets cold." Teala says. And then, more gently; "And the compound won't be going anywhere. We'll get there sooner when you're well-rested, as well."

"... thanks, Teala." 

He supposes she's right, as much as he loathes to admit it. It's not that Mat doesn't want to listen to Teala; instead, it's more that he hates feeling like he's a burden on the younger woman. 

With a sigh, he relents, eating a spoonful of the porridge Teala has made for him. It’s good; not great, by any means, but it's warm and it takes the edge off of his hunger. Teala is a woman of many talents, and he adores her so much, but cooking isn’t her strongest suit. She’s not bad or anything like that- just mediocre (not that he’d say that to her face, of course).

Still, it’s sweet of her to make breakfast. He appreciates the gesture- as well as the food, of course.

-

After the two friends finish eating, they pack up their little camp. It’s another same-old same-old kind of day, endlessly walking in what they hope to be the right direction. Eventually, they break for lunch, sat eating their food in a comfortable silence.

Teala sits in a branch a little way up an old oak tree, swinging her legs casually and looking so relaxed that Mat can’t help but smile just slightly. Too tired to climb it himself, he sits on the roots of the tree, leaning up against the rough bark. It’s not the most comfortable place to sit, but it takes the weight off of his feet for a little while, which is what is important. 

He’s just taking a sip of water and packing his food away when he spots them, and he freezes. The familiar shambling of a small horde of zombies - maybe a dozen or so - slowly groaning their way through this field. They haven’t seen him and Teala yet; or at least, he’s 80% certain they havent and making up the other 20% with a half-desperate kind of hope.

“Teala.” Mat speaks slowly and calmly, not wanting to spook her but knowing they have to get going now before they  _ do  _ get spotted.

“Hm?”

“Teala, get out of the tree. Please.”

“Wait, what? Is there a proble-  _ oh,  _ shit, okay-”

He knows now that she’s seen the zombies, and he doesn’t watch her to make sure she gets down safely because he’s too busy drawing his crowbar and slinging his pack back over his shoulder. He hears it, though; the soft  _ thump  _ as her feet hit the ground. Over the past few months that they’ve known each other (and before that for Mat, at least), the two friends have learnt how to get around quietly and as stealthily as they can; and it’s on days like this that Mat is grateful for that practice.

But even when they start to move- slow, quiet, because the long grass offers very little cover and a lot of noise. And whilst there are a few varieties of zombies in this new world, Mat's hypothetical money is on these being a standard C-rated hoard. Not as slow as movies would have you believe; but not super fast or super intelligent, either.

He's pointedly ignoring the thought of these being B's, or god forbid A-rated zombies. Because then they're most likely going to die. Twelve zombies versus two of them? They'd have no chance.

Seeing as they're hopefully only C class, he thinks they can get away, though. That being said, the zombies aren't all that far away from them; because of the direction they need to travel as they skirt around the hoard, both Mat and Teala are going to have to be dead silent before the emphasis ends up placed on the  _ dead _ .

But then he steps on a branch he didn't see in time and the snap echoes through the fields. Mat freezes like a deer caught in headlights, eyes snapping up to meet Teala's eyes. She's on the verge of panic herself.

Although he doesn't dare look behind him, he hears the low moans of the eternal agony of unlife shift into something angrier as he fumbles to draw his crowbar as fast as he can. He sees the way Tealas eyes go even wider and she looks at him like she's about to say something- but he cuts her off before she can speak.

"Run." He utters, flexing his fingers around his weapon as his palm sweats with nerves. Mat clutches at the crowbar until his knuckles go white.

"But-"

" _ Run,  _ Teala. Just- just go! I'll catch up." He pleads, louder this time. Mat flinches at his own wording but forcibly shoves a flood of memories down because he does  _ not  _ have time to think about that.

The woman looks conflicted, even as she hops and stumbles a few steps back before spinning on her heel and breaking into a run.

Mats lips curl into a relieved half grin and he makes to follow her but he stumbles as a cold hand locks around his arm. Panicked, he lets out a sharp yell. He turns and lashes out with the crowbar, beating a dent in the side of the zombie's face until it's enough for them to release him. His skin is sore and red from being squeezed, and he bleeds in a few places from the zombie's nails. But there's no time to worry about his wounds or even feel the pain right now as he grimaces, taking another swing with the pointy end of his weapon.

The zombie stumbles back, oozing coagulated dark brown blood from where it's cheek has caved in. It lets out a harsh snarl in Mat's direction. There’s a split second of silent tension before the zombie lunges towards him. He goes to scramble back but suddenly there are hands locked in place around his neck and his breath is stolen from his lungs.

Mat swings with the crossbow but his eyesight is blurring and terror makes his swipes clumsy. All his focus is on keeping his neck away from the zombie, knowing it's looking to bite him. 

_ Is this it? Is this how I die?,  _ he thinks numbly. It's odd- his mounting terror just drops into a still and resigned emptiness. Even as his body wheezes and struggles, pressure building in his throat and behind his eyes, he feels strangely detached.

And then everything stops. Mat can breathe again- and for a moment he thinks he's dead. Then he opens his eyes, coughing-

"Get  _ off  _ of him!"

The shout comes from Teala, fury burning in her eyes as she holds her crossbow level. She fires another bolt into the already injured zombie, practically barking at Mat to "get your ass over here!".

He's never seen Teala this angry; so he complies, scrambling over on shaking legs.

A few more bolts and the zombie goes down. There's still more of them; though not as close, and Teala grabs Mat's hands and starts  _ running  _ through the field.

They run for what feels like forever, until their lungs burn and they have no choice but to stop and take a rest. The zombies have been left far behind, though Teala still seems on edge. As she stows her weapon she stomps her way over to Mat through dry, brittle bracken and grass.

"Teals, I-"

" _ Shut up." _

He goes quiet, eyes wide as she tilts his chin up with a finger before inspecting the blooming bruises against his neck. Gentle touches run over his neck, checking for anything out of place, swollen, broken, or anywhere between.

Satisfied that his neck is fine, she then inspects the scratches on his arm, eyes narrowing.

"Sit down. Let me sort those for you." She says briskly, already slinging her pack off of her back and rummaging through it. 

Mat chuckles, awkward and slightly intimidated. "Seriously, Teala, I'm fine. You really don't need to-"

" _ Humour me,  _ Matthew." She snaps, yanking the first aid kit out from under a spare map. "Did you get bit?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Great! Now sit down and  _ shut the fuck up." _

Mat sits down pretty quickly after that. Teala bends over the wound as she wipes it clean, hair obscuring her face. It's not until she's tying the bandage that Mat notices the way her fingers shake.

As she finishes the knot, albeit with a little bit more difficulty than normal, a drop of liquid splashes onto Mat's arm and that's when he realises she's crying.

"Teala…? Are you okay?" He says gently.

When she looks up, her eyes are red-rimmed and glossy. She glares at him, though it's half-hearted and more than a little watery. "You could have  _ died!  _ You idiot, what were you thinking? Stick together, that's the first fuck-  _ fucking  _ rule-" She stutters, words tripped up by a sob that tears free of her throat.

Instinctively Mat draws the woman into a hug, and she melts against his chest as she continues to sob.

"I'm sorry, Teala… I'll try and be more careful in future, if that's any help?"

"You better." She grumbles weakly, sniffling and shoving her face into his shirt. Teala clutches at her friend, grounding herself on his presence and the fact that he is alive, and not leaving her anytime soon. History will not repeat itself; not if she has anything to say about it. "I am… sorry, for snapping at you though."

He chuckles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "No, it's fine, I get it. Sorry for being a dumbass and nearly getting myself killed."

Smiling against him, she eventually pulls back from the hug, dabbing at her eyes with a sweater paw.

He silently pats her fondly on the shoulder, the tension in the air fizzling away. The only course of action is forwards, as always, so the few continue on through the fields til the daylight starts to fade.

-

"Let me take first watch, Teala?"

"But you took it first last night? You need to sleep, Mat."

He shrugs. "...humour me? I need some time to think."

Relenting, Teala flops down against her travel pillow. "Fine. But don't you let me sleep past the swap time, okay? You  _ have  _ to rest."

"Is that doctor's orders?" He teases, sipping some water.

"You know it." She pokes her tongue out at him fondly before rolling over and curling up. Mat keeps half an eye on her as she drifts off, wanting to make sure her rest is peaceful.

Teala seems adamant that Mat's life is worth more than he thinks it is. She refuses to lose him… so maybe he should make more of an attempt at sticking around?

_ For her?  _ he thinks, a fond smile tugging at his lips.  _ I think I could do just about anything… this couldn't hurt to try. For her sake, at the very least. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!! again, out of backlog now so no promises but i shall do what i can to stay on top of this! no promises though; that's when my brain decides to fuck me over sighs,, take care and I'll see you all about. please leave a comment if you enjoyed, they keep me going!!
> 
> ❤️


	5. run, devil, run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: brief mentions of suicide missions, minor injury talk, guns and threatened gun violence, knife violence, one (1) slightly creepy flirty thing gets said to teala, swearing,

Mat is feeling absolutely knackered. to put it bluntly. A heavy leaden tiredness seeps into his bones; in more ways than just physical. Yet he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep just yet, so taking the first watch is only rational. He quietly brews himself a cup of coffee- it’s at times like these that he misses drinking Diet Coke. A nice, crisp, forever unsponsored can of Diet Coke would always help him stay up arguably far too late working on cases.

Thinking about his past life is a rabbit hole he doesn't want to fall down, but the ground is already rushing up to meet him so he may as well just try to land in a way that doesn't kill him instantly. Investigative work had always seemed to suit him; though he hadn't wanted to involve himself with the actual police. Helping people with personal cases always felt like he was doing something really special and good in this world.

He smiles softly, thinking about the time he searched a theme park top to bottom to find a lost bear of a little girl. Not the most challenging case but the smile on her face when she had her dear stuffed friend back made it all worth it. It's memories like that he tries to focus on in melancholic moments; though he tries not to focus on the past at all.

Flames from the small fire they’d lit cast a warm glow over the area around them as it boils the water in the kettle they’d set up, which he pours into his cup as it starts to bubble. As the mug heats up his hands, his gaze drifts over to Teala. He wonders about her sometimes, what her life was like before the apocalypse happened, what it was like in the (basically) five years between the virus's outbreak and meeting him.

Oh, he knows that it's rude to pry, but old investigative habits die hard. He practically can't help the way And their meeting was under such odd circumstances, too. Mat knows that she used to be a doctor; but how does a doctor end up trapped in the top of a zombie-infested apartment block? Let alone sobbing her eyes out with an empty crossbow knocked out of her hands and a zombie trying to tear out her jugular with their teeth.

Fighting his way through an apartment building that was absolutely teeming with the undead was a very, very impulsive decision. In fact it was bordering on a suicide mission; maybe that's why Mat threw caution to the wind all because the sound of a person screaming.

But he's so, so glad that he saved her life. For a start, she's returned the favour numerous times over- just earlier this afternoon, for example. The deep scratches in his arm - although no longer bleeding - still sting underneath their coverings. Mat resists the urge to itch at the damn things, knowing that scratching brings infection and Teala will lecture him in the morning.

He takes a long sip of just-cooled-down-enough coffee. These days, he takes his coffee black- though he really has no choice. There's no opportunity for sugar, or milk, not in the middle of a field under a small cluster of trees for shelter. 

Setting the mug beside him, he pulls out a rag and his crowbar. He carefully dips the rag in leftover boiled water- though it's cooling swiftly in the night air, which is a relief for Mat's safety. Wringing it out, he watches the drops splatter against his boot and slip down the leather onto the forest floor.

Then, he sets about cleaning the gore off of his weapon. Mat is especially careful- beating the shit out of a zombie's cheek has some downsides, one of which being the risk of their being left over saliva on your weapon. And that's part of the disease; contact with saliva from an infected person. Strangely enough blood is fine, just not saliva. Although not all that much is known about the disease, seeing how it spread too far for most research to become public knowledge or even complete in the slightest.

Once he's satisfied that his crowbar is clean and safe to use again, he washes out his rag and stows it back in his pack. Then he settles in with his coffee and stares out over the field, keeping a diligent eye out until it's time to wake Teala.

-

He hears the branch snap about three hours into the third watch.. Immediately he's on high alert, squinting into the early morning sun to try and figure out who or what's there. Leaning over, he grabs Tealas shoulder and shakes her awake as gently as he can.

"Hm? Wha..?" She grumbles sleepily.

"Get up, I heard something." He mutters,throwing dirt on the campfire and showing their little trangia and kettle as fast as he can.

Teala is half way through a yawn when her eyes go wide at that. She totters up out of bed, rolling her sleeping bag up and cramming it roughly into her pack. As soon as they have everything, Mat takes her by the hand and tries to start jogging out of the clearing but-

"You're not going anywhere."

An unfamiliar voice makes Mat freeze. That, and also the feeling of cold, hard steel and the quiet click as a cocked revolver is pushed against the back of his skull. Teala lets out a soft gasp behind him, squeezing his hand tightly.

-

Teala is terrified. Utterly, wholly, and absolutely so. The last time she felt this scared was probably the last time she was with Sierra. But this time the difference is the hardened ball of determination that weighs heavily in her gut- she refuses to lose yet _another_ close friend.

"Noone has to get hurt," Mat says smoothly, raising the hand that isn't clutching Teala's in a submissive gesture. "Just tell us what you want from us."

"Hand over your packs, we'll be going through them and taking whatever we deem necessary for us." The stranger shoots back. 

It's at that moment, glancing around the treeline with a fluttery nervousness to her breath, that Teala notices the other raiders. A total of four including their leader, surround their camp on both sides. Only the leader seems to have a gun; two of the others are armed with blood stained baseball bats and the other has a cruel-looking knife.

She glances over her shoulder at the raider whose gun is buried in the ends of Mat's messy brown hair. He catches her gaze and leers at her.

"Ain't you a pretty thing? Just shut up and stay still and I won't have to break that face of yours."

Teala shudders, averting her gaze as disgust runs through her. She's desperately trying to not show any emotion on her face, for Mat’s sake if nothing else. 

_Think. How do we get out of this?_

In all honesty, she’s struggling to focus right now. The mix of sheer adrenaline bringing the flight or fight instinct to the forefront of her brain together with the fact that not five minutes ago she was passed out in actual deep sleep is making her nauseous. But she has to- she _needs_ to get her act together otherwise all their stuff is going to be taken and honestly Teala will be surprised if she and Mat get away unscathed. If there’s one thing she’s learned from all these years on the road, people who demand things from others are never to be taken at their word. But it’s not like she can fight back, is it? Her crossbow is nowhere near subtle enough, if she moves to draw it Mat would be dead before she could even load the damn thing.

That’s when she remembers the small knife she keeps on her belt at all times. Even when she’s sleeping- clipped onto her belt in a little leather case. 

_“Isn’t that a massive fucking hazard?”,_ she remembers Mat saying.

_“Not really? It’s in its case, so…” She had shrugged, trailing off, and he’d hummed in response._

_“Still, don’t you run the risk of like, impaling yourself in the thigh during your sleep?”_

_She’d snorted a laugh. “There was this quote I heard… way back before everything went down- well, before, y’know? But yeah the point is-_ The man who sleeps with a machete under his pillow is a fool every night but one. _"_

_“Huh. That is… fair enough. Just be careful.” He’d cautioned, but relenting to let her keep her night-knife._

And tonight appears to be that night; that one in which she is not a fool. If she can slip the knife to Mat, maybe they can get the upper hand- if just for long enough to run.

“I still think you’ve got the wrong people, sir? We’re just a couple of travellers, we really don’t have anything of too much worth.” Mat is still speaking, calm and neutral, attempting to keep the raider distracted. He’s turned to face him now, the gun still pointed level at his face, though not even a hint of panic shows on Mat’s expression. Which is more than Teala has going for herself- eyes still bleary, hair still tucked up in a silk scarf for sleeping, she knows she looks like a little bit of a disaster.

The stranger sniffs, nose scrunched up in disbelief. He gestures with his revolver at Mat’s fingers, before speaking. “That ring on your finger looks like it’d be worth a pretty penny. Why don’t you hand that over, and some of your food and medical supplies, and we’ll be on our way?”

Mat is excellent at keeping his composure; which is why it’s more than a little worrying to Teala to see the way he physically recoils at that statement. It takes him a moment to gather himself, staring at the ground.

“Hit a sore spot did I, lover boy?” The raider crows, and Mat forces a grim smile back onto his face.

It's at this point Teala slowly, so nervous that she holds her breath, slips the handle of the knife into Mat's grip- its awkward, trying to slip a knife hilt in where they hold each other’s hands without it being painfully obvious or stabbing either of them. But she manages it nonetheless. She lets out her breath in a soft, relieved exhale as Mat squeezes her hand once before letting go, taking the knife from her.

In one swift motion, Mat lunges forward, the raider oblivious until there’s nothing but a hilt sticking out of his stomach. The stranger gaps, a pained cry slipping from his lips as Mat then proceeds to yank the knife back out. Blood splatters against the ground, staining the grass a muddy crimson. Instinctively he drops his gun, clutching at the stab wound as scarlet starts to ooze from between his fingers.

“How’s that for a sore spot, asshole?” Mat shoots back, wiping the knife on his pant leg in the moments before the clearing descends into madness.

Teala takes the cue to whip out her crossbow, firing a bolt into the leg of one of the raiders as shouts ring out, angry for their injured leader. Another bolt thunks into a tree next to another one, before Mat’s tugging urgently on her elbow and yelling that they need to run. She grunts in frustration, another bolt scattering off into the shadows, sleep throwing off her accuracy before she turns heel and sprints after Mat.

Squinting against the rising sun, she stumbles to keep up, trying to reload her crossbow at the same time. Eventually she falls into place beside Mat, whispering to try and stay quiet even as undergrowth crunches beneath their heavy footfalls.

“Where are we _going?”_

“No clue,” Mat pants, adrenaline bringing speed to his still-tired legs. “We just gotta go, and pray we outrun them.”

“That is a terrible plan, Matthew!” She hisses.

“Maybe so, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment!” He returns, before going quiet to save his breath for running.

Luckily, though they hear footsteps behind them for a while, the raiders seem to give up the chase in favour of tending to their injured leader. And besides; victims that put up this much of a fight are never worth it in the end. Mat wasn’t lying when he said they really didn’t have of much worth on them anyway.

The pair keep moving on; a dead sprint slows to a jog and then a general rambling pace as the sun rises overhead. They know they’ll need to stop somewhere soon, for a little more sleep, or at least a chance to catch their breath- interrupted sleep left Teala a little disoriented and sleepy still. And for whatever reason, what the raider said to Mat seems to have struck a nerve- he still feels more than a little thrown off balance.

Eventually, by the time the sun is fully up (somewhere between six and seven in the morning would be Mat’s estimate, if numerical time hadn’t lost nearly all meaning in these times), a barn appears on the horizon. In the middle of a field of golden grasses- some of them might be crops, though Mat’s never really been the best at identifying plants. Oh, he could tell you the differences between several types of blood splatters and how to tell what caused them- but crops? Out of his league.

He nudges Teala with his shoulder, and she blinks, looking up at him. 

“Look at that.” He points out the barn. “Think it looks okay? We could check it out, at least. Get some rest if it’s safe, and a barn is probably a lot easier to secure and defend than a field…”

His companion pauses for a minute to consider, before nodding amicably. “It’s at least worth a look, right?”

With a nod, Mat sets off in the direction of the barn, and Teala follows. It’s a classic barn, quite pretty and, whilst not in perfect condition, doesn’t seem to have fallen into an intense state of disrepair like many buildings recently. The red paint on the outside is chipped in a few places, but mostly intact. Save for one (that they can see, at least) small hole in the roof and a couple of smashed windows, it seems pretty secure and functional. When they reach them Mat has to crowbar the large doors open- they seem to be barred from the inside, though there’s no visible sign of people.

Still, both Mat and Teala are on guard as they slip in, shutting and barring the doors behind them. A cursory glance over the place makes it seem devoid of any immediate signs of life or danger, though Mat doesn’t put the crowbar away.

“Hello?”

No response.

Teala carefully investigates around the bottom floor, pushing aside crates and hay bales because you can never be too careful, and you never know what could be lurking just around the corner. Mat makes his way over to a ladder, glancing up to see that it leads up to a hay loft.

“Oh, hey… up here might be a good place to camp out? We can pull the ladder up and everything so no one else can get up.” He says, climbing up the first three rungs before turning to look at Teala. “What do you think, Teals?”

She grins up at him, opening her mouth to say something before _freezing_ as her expression completely drops, staring at something behind Mat. Confused, he furrows his brow, turning around and oh-

For the second time this morning, Mat is staring down the barrel of a loaded gun as a shout carries through the barn.

“Who the _fuck_ are you two?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, a mysterious stranger, huh? wonder who it is ;)
> 
> but in all seriousness, i should let you know that this chapter update is the final one before i go back to school on Friday! i hope to continue writing and keep updating this regularly BUT i cannot make any promises because that's when my brain decides to fuck me over. also, with covid and everything, school may end up being hectic as SHIT when i return so i might not be able to finish chapters on time as i settle back in. again, ill do my best, but this is so i don't panic and stress about deadlines. thanks for your understanding!!! much love to you all, stay safe!


	6. her sweetened breath (and her tongue so mean)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ chapter title from hozier's "angel of small death and the codeine scene"]  
> tws: swearing, threatened gun violence, talk about pretty major injuries (partial loss of a limb, though its not uber graphic? still be careful)

_It's too fucking early for this kind of bullshit_ , is the first thought in her mind as she stares down the ladder. Glaring at this stranger who dared break-in, gun pointed at him. It's with a sickening jolt she realises the gun is pointed dead centre at his forehead, so she shifts it to be at his shoulder. The whole _shoot to kill, no questions asked_ attitude hasn't been sitting with her right, recently.

"Who are you?" She repeats angrily. "What do you want?"

"Oh, um, hello there." The man grins awkwardly, one hand clutching the ladder for dear life and the other raised submissively. "We're just a couple of travellers passing through, looking for somewhere safe, we really didn't mean to bother you."

"How did you get in here?"

"...uh… to be honest? Crowbar."

_Shit. He has a fair point._

"Oh, and, uh, I'm Mat, this is Teala."

The young woman in the corner of the barn raises a hand in an awkward wave, though that's not what Nikita's attention is caught by. Instead, it's the gasp by her side from Manny, something choked and raw. 

Not taking the gun away from Mat she turns to her friend, concerned. Manny pushes himself up with a groan, unbalanced since he only has one hand to use for balance. He's looking a little worse day by day, she notes with a frown.

His skin’s lightly tinged grey from blood loss, his every movement laboured as he forces himself into a sitting position. Propping the bandaged yet still bloody stump that is his left forearm in his lap, he speaks to Nikita for the first time in days. 

"Let him up."

She lets out a disbelieving laugh. " _What?_ Manny, these are _strangers_ , are you serious?"

"Nikita, thats-"

"- they broke into our barn, and are clearly armed -"

"Listen to me, Kita, he's-"

"- and you're in no state to fight if they turn on us so it's my job to keep us safe so I think letting strangers into our safe space is a _fucking terrible idea-"_

 _"Kitty!"_ He snaps, and she shuts up. When Manny speaks again, the rasp of disuse in his voice breaks into an emotional warble. "That's- that's Mat. My… husband."

Nikita blinks in shock. Glancing down, she casts her eyes over Mat, and the man looks like he's about to fall off the ladder. As pale as if he's seen a ghost, a mixture of confusion, grief, and giddy relief in his eyes.

"...Manny?" Her friend's name in this stranger’s voice is odd, like he almost forgot how to say it with how long it's been since the last time. "You're alive?"

"Just about." He laughs, breathily, like he's unable to tear his eyes from Mat.

Nikita huffs a frustrated noise and moves to the side to let Mat past. She has _so many questions-_ she'd never even known Manny was _married_ . And if this really is his husband then where the _hell_ has he _been?_

She watches with disdain as Mat scurries up the ladder, his friend standing at the base of it and looking on with the same total confusion and concern.

Mat sits in front of Manny, tension hanging heavy in the air between them.

"Hey…" Mat breathes.

"Hello, stranger. Long time no see, hm?"

"Manny- Manny I thought you'd _died-_ oh, God…" Mat trails off, his breath seeming to catch in his throat. "What happened to your _arm?"_

Nikita flinches, clutching the handle of the gun tighter as Manny's eyes dart over, meeting hers.

"An… accident. Zombies. I don't want to talk about it." He says slowly, looking Nikita in the eyes the whole while. It's an obvious lie - Mat shifts awkwardly in the hay of the loft, clearly stung - but it still brings Nikita a little relief.

It's at this point the woman- _her name was Teala, right?_ \- at the bottom of the ladder clears her throat, to speak up. There’s a concern in her eyes that’s just a little unsure, as if she wants to help but she doesn’t know exactly what the problem _is, nevermind_ how to begin to fix it.

"If you're injured, I can help? I can't see the problem from here but I- I was a doctor, so." She offers. Nikita immediately shoots her a glare, assessing her with cautious distrust. Even with the crossbow at her side, Nikita doesn't think she's much of a threat- and besides, Nikita could take her in a fight for sure.

Manny holds his stump arm over the edge of the wall, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"Oh. _Oh._ Well, I can't fully heal that but- I can keep it from getting worse?" She tries awkwardly. 

“Be my guest.” Manny chuckles tiredly, pulling back from where he’s leaning over the side of the hayloft. 

Teala starts towards the ladder, and reaches out to grab it but hesitates. Looking up at Nikita as if for permission. Frustrated by both of these newcomers, and the fact that she knew even less about Manny than she thought she did, yet knowing nonetheless he _needs_ help, she motions angrily for Teala to come up. Watching her like a hawk as she climbs, the woman keeps her head down, and skitters up to kneel in front of Manny.

There's a hushed conversation that Nikita doesn’t even really care to hear between Manny and Teala. She watches silently, leaning back against the wall with her gun in her lap, glaring daggers into the younger woman’s back. It’s this strange kind of anger that boils in her chest right now- it’s jealous, in a way, that she _can’t_ help Manny like this. She mulls this over as she hears the sound of unwrapping bandages and a soft intake of breath.

Mat pales, turning away and moving away from the two entirely, which is interesting. She catches his eye and he sighs, coming to sit next to her. Not trusting him at all yet, she shuffles a few metres away. 

“So.. what brings you two up into this little barn?” is his feeble attempt at starting a conversation.

“Why do _you_ care?”

“I am… curious. To see where you’re headed next, I mean.” Mat swallows thickly, gaze darting across to stare at Manny with a heartbroken longing in his eyes. “See if… if it’s a similar direction to us. We could always go together..”

Teala seems to perk up, having overheard this. “Oh! Should they come with us? To the compound, I mean.”

Mat lets out a hefty sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “Teala…”

There’s a pause. As if there’s something that he wants to say but he doesn’t, either out of fear or discomfort, Nikita can’t tell.

“Sure. They can come with us.”

“Who said we’d want to go with you two _anywhere?”_ Nikita retorts, arms folded across her chest.

“I do.”

She blinks at Manny’s quiet words, shifting uncomfortably as he turns to meet her gaze. His eyes are sorrowful, pleading, as if trying to say to her _please, I just got him back. I don’t want to let go of him so soon._

And who is she to deny him this much, after everything that she’s done to him?

“...Fine. I guess I’m okay with coming with you guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy,, that was a short one but i think it sets up some important details! school is off too an alright start for those who were wondering though again cant promise any upload consistency! as always i will do my best- remember that comments make the fic machine go BRRRRRRRRR
> 
> ❤️


	7. bruised apples; ruined pears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tws: swearing, argument between friends, food mention

Today is a good day. Or, at least, it has been so far for Saf. The sun is shining, and whilst there are very few birds around she imagines that if there were they would be singing.

Sure, it's a painful time of year for her- but she's keeping busy. Because busy means distracted, and there's always something to do around here. Not to say that she's constantly run off her feet trying to get shit done, far from it in fact, but the point is that the work is there if she wants it. And she does want very much today.

Currently, she stands in the small but yet ever-expanding orchard, sweaty and breathing hard but  _ happy,  _ happier than she's been in days. The sleeves of her light blue flannel are rolled up just past her elbows, her dark green jacket tied around her waist resting comfortably on her hips ever since it got too hot to wear it. The crates she needs to shift are heavy and wide, but someone has to bring in the lovely, fresh, ripe peaches. 

The sweet smell of them in the air makes her smile softly- they're one of her favourite fruits. Who knows, maybe this is the year Safiya will finally manage to make some decent jam out of them. 

It's a nice thought that keeps her company as she wanders between the trees, filling her wicker basket before carefully emptying it into the wooden crates. She then repeats this process until a crate is full, before hefting it up and carefully stacking it by the door. And on the subject of good company-

"Jc!" She calls out cheerily to her friend, pushing a hand through black hair as she leans against a crate.

He looks up from where he's crossing the courtyard, and breaks into a grin, strolling over to her side. "Saffy! It's good to see you out and about."

"Ah, yeah, I was feeling a little better today." She admits sheepishly. "Sorry for being out of action for so many days, Jc."

He waves the apologies away, shrugging. "I won't hear any of that. Seriously, it's fine, you needed a few days! No one blames you. We had things handled, and I'm just happy to see  _ you  _ happy."

She smiles softly, knocking their shoulders together. "Knock if off, you sap." she says, though there's no malice to her tone. Instead, there's only gentle honeyed affection woven into her voice.

"Nah, you love me really, you know you do."

"I do, I do." She relents with a chuckle. "So, what are you up to? Headed anywhere in particular."

"I'm just going to go check the pressure in the main water tank."

That makes Safiya pause. She squints, eyes narrowing in thought. "I thought I asked Eva to do that?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. She… she did."

"Then why do you need to do it too? Did something happen?"

"No, I just…" He clears his throat awkwardly, trailing off. Jc avoids Safiya's gaze no matter how hard she tries to look him in the eyes. Tension hangs in the air between the two friends, and Saf feels sick all of a sudden as she tries to figure out what's going on.

The penny drops then for Saf, taking her mood down with it on the way for good measure. "Don't tell me it's- You seriously don't trust her? After all this time?"

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back as he talks to her. “Of course I don’t. Why the hell would I?”

There’s a sinking feeling in Safiya’s stomach, dread settling like a handful of rocks. “Jc… please don’t keep doing this. You know Kian’s forgiven her and moved on, you know she’s one of my closest friends too-”

“Oh, yeah,  _ so  _ close that you’re siding with  _ her  _ over me, who you’ve known for like ten years.” Jc retorts, arms folded across his chest.

“This isn’t about taking sides! You’re being unreasonable, Jc  _ please  _ listen-”

"I'm  _ going  _ to go check the  _ water pressure,"  _ He states firmly, before his posture softens and he sighs, looking at Saf with pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, but you'll get me to trust Eva once hell freezes over."

She just watches him go, hopeless as he brushes past her in silent affection before continuing inside and presumably onwards. Letting out a hefty sigh, Saf leans on her crate and tries not to start crying.

The urge and motivation to work have left her, replaced by the flood of distress caused by the argument. She decides she's shifted  _ enough  _ crates, and grabs her water bottle to head inside. Making sure she avoids the route Jc is most likely to take to get to the water tank, she walks swiftly through the building. Before she knows it she's upstairs, hand raised to knock on Eva's door but hesitating for some reason.

Maybe it's nerves; the worry that she'll somehow fuck this up like she seems to do with every relationship she forms, the worry that Jc and Eva will never settle their differences, any other of a billion anxieties that burrow into her stomach.

She nearly convinces herself that Eva mightn't be in so the whole thing is pointless- and then finally gathers the courage to knock.

The door opens barely seconds after, and Eva greets her with a bright smile. "Safiya! Hello! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She steps aside, letting Saf in. Safiya makes a beeline for her couch, perching on the back with a faint smile.

"Oh, I'm… just checking in. Had a few questions, trying to clear something up."

Eva arches an eyebrow as she sits on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other and her hands clasped on the front of a knee. "Well, I'm all ears. What's up?"

"Did you check the water pressure of the tank the other day?"

Eva nods. "Mhm! For sure, you asked me too and I was free so I did it right away. Why…? Is there a problem?"

Saf sighs, posture slumping. The frustration from her encounter with Jc fades from her and turns to just disappointed sadness. An uneasy doubt settles in her stomach. She normally tends not to talk about her issues with her friends; in fact, she  _ doesn't.  _ As a  _ rule. _

But this tension between her and Jc is rotting at her soul and rising in her simultaneously. She doesn’t know if she’ll collapse or explode first.

“Eva… do you think I'm a bad friend?”

She blurts the words out, immediately looking away with a flash of regret so as to avoid catching Eva’s eye. Panic thrums in her veins and she wrings her hands anxiously; she  _ hates  _ this, hates that waiting for a response is always the hardest part-

“No. Of course I don’t,” Eva starts after a slight pause. Her tone is gentle, genuine and fond and Safiya lets out a shuddery breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “As soon as you knew you could trust me you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me. And- to be frank? I don’t blame you for taking your time to trust me…”

A sad half-smile plays on the corners of Saf’s mouth, and she heaves a sigh.

“I feel like I don’t do enough for Jc anymore,” she mumbles.

There’s the sound of the seat shifting and then the next thing Saf knows Eva’s sitting next to her. Her second in command wraps Saf in a gentle hug, and Saf returns it. Slumping into the sense of comfort.

“Jc is just… I don’t know who pisses in  _ his  _ cornflakes every morning, but he’s bitter around me no matter what I do. I promise its not your fault, Saf; you’re brilliant, okay?”

Eva’s words bring Safiya a slight sense of peace. It doesn’t purge the anxiety from her in its entirety - that would be a  _ miracle -  _ but it does help.

“Thank you, Eva.” The worlds are muffled by Eva’s shoulder, and Eva smiles in spite of everything. She lets her friend lean against her, not saying anything more. After a moment's hesitation she drops her head into Saf’s hair, brushing a soft kiss against her friend’s head. It’s nice to indulge herself in a moment of affectionate behaviour. Safiya just hums, tired but relatively okay for now, and just relaxes into Eva’s grasp.

They stay like that for a while; a brief moment of quiet peace in a busy day. And it's nice; soothing, even, because maybe Saf should talk about her problems more if it's going to keep ending up like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this one was so late!! school has been a lil bit of a mess and also! im in a hunger games roleplay on discord and its really kicking off so its been taking up a lot of my time
> 
> that being said- i don't want to abandon this fic!! it means a lot to me, so ill keep trying to bounce back up everytime i get knocked down
> 
> in fact it was comments on the last chapter and the ones before that managed to give me the boost i needed to focus in and not give up,,, so thank you to everyone whos commented so far and i hope that's incentive to continue doing so!!
> 
> i love you all! thanks for reading!


	8. hand in unlovable hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ chapter title from the mountain goat's " no children " ]
> 
> tws: loneliness, grief, mourning talk, slight references to disassociation, minor injury, arguments between friends (!! major warning here), and also swearing
> 
> a lil rough emotionally so please take care but what else did you expect from our first Teala POV?

Teala is uneasy, to put it simply. And she hasn’t been unsettled to this extent in a long time. Oh,  _ sure _ , she’s been anxious and terrified to the point of nauseous panic a handful of times in the past few weeks, but that’s different. The last time she had this sort of rolling, relentless distress was entering that stupid apartment block with Sierra.

God, she misses Sierra. Eva, too. Both of her girls are long dead and gone now but she still can’t help but ache like they took parts of her soul with them. The loneliness that tugs at her now is weird; but familiar, seeing as she’s carried its burden for so long. It’s odd, she supposes, to be lonely when she’s currently in the biggest group she’s been in… Teala doesn’t  _ know  _ how long.

But, as she sits on watch with Nikita, she realises she truly knows none of them. That's why she’s so lonely. It’s expected that she doesn’t know Nikita or Manny - the former sat so close to the sleeping man she’s almost on top of him. Teala has the fleeting mental image of a mother bear curled around an injured cub. Already she knows Nikita doesn’t like her - any half-hearted attempt Teala makes at starting a conversation are met with cold, sharp words-if Nikita even responds at all. She doesn’t know what she did - she’s been nothing but pleasant to Nikita since they met, but it’s whatever. Teala can just carry on pretending that she couldn’t care less about the woman’s opinion of her.

Manny seems nice enough. For someone so grievously injured, he still seems to be able to find the occasional smile for her. But he’s completely different when he’s around Mat. The tension between the two is so immense to the point it practically crackles in the air around them. If she's being honest Teala has very little clue as to their past situation, but from what she  _ does  _ know- it's a mess. Which is fair.

They’d been married since- presumably- before the apocalypse which means they’d been married for five years, four if you don’t count the  _ year they didn’t see each other and Mat thought Manny was dead  _ and Mat genuinely thought Manny  _ actually died  _ and just… what in the absolute fuck?

In a way, that’s the bit of her heart that's stinging. It’s the fact Mat never told her anything about this, and even now continues to avoid the subject constantly. Which is kind of fair, she knows she has secrets of her own but it still hurts. It hurts as she realises she knows  _ next to nothing  _ about the “friend” she’s been travelling with for months.

All this being said, she still trusts Mat with her life. How could she not? Mat has saved Teala more than one time before and she doesn’t doubt it’ll happen again. On the other hand, she’s still more than a little stung. And with no-one to talk to about it, she's stuck mulling it over in moments like this.

Thinking it over, she wonders what she’d do in the inverse situation. If either of her girls turned up okay and she was suddenly thrust back into emotions long tucked away under the blanket of her mourning, still breaking heart. But she’d tell Mat  _ something  _ at least, not leave him entirely in the dark as he has for her.

She’s so tired. Fuck, she’d  _ kill  _ to go back to the tense everyday stress of wandering the woods with Eva and Sierra. In fact, she’d prefer those desperate weeks waiting for Eva to never return than this numbing loneliness.

“ _ Hello?  _ Earth to planet Teala?”

Nikita’s snappy words jolt Teala out of her melancholy. She lifts her head from where she’d been staring at the ground, knees tucked up to her chest. A slight shiver passes through the woman as the cold the night air hits her, actually realising her surroundings again.

“Hm? Pardon, Nikita?”

Nikita huffs a sigh, rolling her eyes. In a way, her expression reminds Teala of Sierra’s, all those months ago. But there’s no underlying fondness in Nikita, not for Teala at least, and the butterflies that the girl sparked in Teala’s stomach died and rotted with Sierra herself.

“I asked if you were going to wake up Mat now. It’s time for you two to swap watches. Good time to switch, since  _ you’ve  _ been half asleep for the past hour. Jeez, be more careful. Anything could’ve happened! I had to call your name like, five times.”

Teala ducks her head in embarrassment, biting the inside of her cheek. In all her musings she’d forgotten her own exhaustion - and to keep an eye on the time. She uncurls herself, the satisfying click and pop of her joints drawing an almost purr of a hum from her throat. Leaning over, she reaches toward Mat, fingers outstretched.

And then a thought hits her and she pauses, pulling her hand back.

“Aren’t you going to wake Manny?” She nods to the man who lays, still fast asleep, at Nikita’s side.

Nikita narrows her eyes, arms folded across her chest as she glares Teala down.

“No. I’m on watch all night. I don’t sleep.”

Teala squints in confusion. “What? But everyone needs-”

“I  _ said,  _ I  _ don’t sleep.”  _ Nikita hisses and Teala knows that tone- it’s one warning her to back off. There’s a tense control to Nikita’s voice; as if the sole reason she’s not yelling is to avoid waking Manny.

To be fair, though, Manny seems to sleep like the dead. Well- the dead don’t sleep these days, but the point still stands. 

At a first glance, you could easily mistake Manny for dead- except if he  _ had  _ slipped away in the night, Teala reckons Nikita would be screaming or at least causing  _ some  _ kind of ruckus. The man is seemingly this exhausted every night without fail, which is concerning for sure. Teala is quite worried to say the least; whoever did the amputation job clearly had very little idea what they were doing. And whilst he isn’t actively bleeding out anymore, infection is still a big risk and he did lose quite a bit of blood. Teala’s experience is relatively limited, if she’s being honest, not to mention there's only so much she has to work with on the side of the road in the middle of the apocalypse.

And with Manny in such a state, the group’s overall pace is slowed. Mat seems to be antsy as a result- whether because of the slow progress or Manny’s injury, Teala doesn’t know. Not like Mat would tell her anyway.

“Manny needs to rest. I can go without a little longer,” Nikita insists.“Besides… I feel like we’ll all sleep a little better if those two aren't left alone on watch together.”

“That’s… actually a fair assessment of the situation.” She muses quietly as she reaches for Mat again, shaking him slightly by the shoulder to wake him.

Soon enough he stirs, albeit groggily. Teala only offers him a curt nod and a “your turn to keep watch,” before turning away. Hurt seems to spark in his eyes for a second and regret curls Teala’s stomach- but she says nothing and goes to sleep.

-

The next few days pass in a similar manner. Nikita only sleeping when she absolutely has to, Manny and Mat dancing around each other, and Teala stuck in the middle.

There are days when she doesn’t even feel real sometimes: catching her face reflected in a puddle startled her for a second when she fails to recognise herself on occasion.

It’s not that she doesn't  _ want  _ to talk to Mat about her issues - she just can’t find the time, let alone the words to begin.

Days morph into weeks; rolling hills turn to forest back to fields and then they’re just a few days out of approaching a ghost town (according to Mat’s map) before an opportunity presents itself.

“I’m going to stretch my legs.” Mat announces whilst they’re resting. Taking a break is important- to let Manny catch his breath and to keep out of the hottest part of the midday sun. Sunscreen is rare these days, after all. Teala would consider it an odd treat to scavenge out of shops that are by this point practically picked clean.

“I’ll- I’ll join you,” Teala blurts, standing up in a rush.

Mat hesitates, going to say something but Teala interjects before he can.

“It’s safer if you’re not alone… please?”

Relenting with a sigh, Mat nods begrudgingly. There’s a hazy discomfort in his eyes as he avoids making eye contact, collecting his bag, and Teala feels a flash of guilt that she quickly pushes down. 

It’s fine, this is fine, this is  _ good,  _ this is a conversation that needs to happen.

_ So why is she so apprehensive? _

Mat turns and walks further into the shade of the trees with a hefty sigh. One hand clutches the handle of the crowbar where it hangs off of his belt, and the other is shoved in his pocket.

Teala only hesitates momentarily before scrambling to follow Mat - just slow enough to hear Nikita's mumble of “why’s  _ he  _ in such a pissy mood?” that earns her a light shove with an elbow in the ribs by Manny.

She allows herself the smallest of smiles before she races to keep up with Mat, her own backpack slung over her shoulders just in case.

It’s almost weird to be back in the forest alone with Mat. Teala  _ would  _ say she’d missed things being like this, just the two of them, but things feel… different, now. More tense, at least.

Mat seems deadset on basically ignoring her as they wander into a clearing. It’s a nice day, to be honest; with skies that are only occasionally streaked with patches of fluffy white. What little birdsong there is is melodious and somehow soothes Teala’s nerves just a little.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She says softly. Mat tenses, posture stiff and guarded, but only the birds break the silence as Teala waits for an answer.

“...Mat? Hello?”

Mat finally sighs, and shrugs, his back turned to her. “I’m not really thinking about anything…”

_ “Bullshit.” _

Mat’s obvious lie has officially pushed Teala to breaking point and she snaps at him, arms folded across her chest.

“What?” Mat whips around to look at her, eyes wide and brow furrowed, clearly a little pissed off.

“Bullshit that you’re not thinking about anything! You’re always thinking, Mat, you say it yourself. You just don’t want to talk to me, do you?” She accuses, ignoring the way sadness brings trembles to her voice.

Mat stares at her, not saying anything in return yet, eyes dark- but his silence only infuriates Teala more. And that’s when she starts shouting. Not an instant yell but her voice is rising and rising in volume, all her repressed emotions from the past days- hell,  _ weeks _ \- finally spilling over-

“Or maybe you  _ never  _ think, I don’t know! I don’t know  _ you,  _ not like I thought I did. We’ve been travelling together for months and I get  _ why  _ you didn’t mention Manny but now you won’t explain a damn thing? Do you even care about my feelings? My part in all of this? Maybe I judged you wrong, maybe you  _ were _ a  _ shit investigator  _ because you don't think as much as you say you do- because you  _ certainly  _ haven’t been thinking about me, Matthew!”

“Of course I didn’t mention my, as far as I knew,  _ dead husband,  _ Teala.” Mat huffs. There’s a note of frosty annoyance in his voice as he readjusts his tinted sunglasses on his nose. “It’s not exactly a conversation starter!”

“I’ve saved your life over and over, I keep you vaguely taking care of yourself and functioning and I try to help whenever I can, won’t you let me help with this?” She pleads. The anger is almost seeming to burn out as quickly as it flared up, desperation slipping through into her cracking voice. “Just tell me what the problem is and we can get through it! You and me, against the world again…?”

Mat’s face drops and molds into a cold, hardened glare and with it a pit of dread opens in Teala’s stomach. The thought of  _ did I fuck up?  _ cuts through the whirling static in her head.

“The problem,  _ Teala,  _ is that you think you have a right to answers. Moreover, you think you have a right to my trauma and my personal  _ shit  _ just because it’s all- because he’s turned up and the memories have fucking winded me emotionally.”

“Mat, I-”

“ _ I’m not finished.” _

Teala goes quiet, her breath tightening in her chest and the back of her eyes starting to prickle. However, she refuses to be pathetic enough to cry in front of him right now. Not today, and certainly not like this.

“How dare- how  _ dare  _ you cite you saving my life as a reason to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong!? Is that all it was to you, all these months? Favours, to rack up my debt and trust, so you could prod and poke and  _ use me _ for information when you wanted?” He shakes his head angrily, yanking off his sunglasses and gesturing accusingly at her with them. “You know what? I don’t even know  _ what  _ compelled me to go into that stupid apartment block to save you. Maybe I had a  _ rare  _ moment of decency; at least I wasn’t holding it over you, not that I can say as much for you in regards to me, Teala! Maybe things would have been easier if I had ignored the screaming and  _ left you there.” _

Whatever Teala was going to say dies in her throat. “ _ Oh, _ ” She says simply, fists clenched as she represses the flood of emotions that burn in her brain and break her heart. Her nails dig so hard into her palms she feels the warm trickle of blood rolling down her skin. “Fine. I see how it is.”

“Oh god- Teala I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, you did. It’s fine. I get it, Mat.” Teala says coolly, adjusting the straps of her backpack, smearing blood across the fabric. “Have fun stretching your legs. I’m going back to the others.”

Her voice is quiet- cold and a little too high-pitched to be normal. Biting the inside of her cheeks so hard she can taste the metallic tang of her own blood; she’s desperately trying to keep from sobbing. She risks a glance up at Mat’s face- at least he has the decency to look guilty.

“Teala- Teala,  _ please…” _

He looks heartbroken, his eyes soft and brimming with guilt - a reflection of Teala’s own, yet less glassy. And Teala knows she shouldn’t have snapped like that, that she’s at fault here too but  _ Mat wishes I were dead, Mat wishes he’d never met me, oh god,  _ is all that races through her brain like a feedback loop. He says he didn’t mean it now but the damage is still done. She wonders just how much it is true, it has to be at  _ least  _ somewhat… sounded like he’d been sitting on that for a while.

A million things pass between them in that moment, every last one unsaid. And then the moment passes and Teala turns around, stumbling towards and then storming away into the woods. Mat stares after her, nothing he can say to make it better.

Then tension in the air has risen to boiling point and when it finally broke, the pieces left behind didn’t just fade away, sticking around and piercing lungs and hearts instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooo boy that was Hella Something huh--  
> hope you enjoyed it! i appreciate all comments even if you want to like, cuss me out for this fight or smth JHFDHJSJHD lmao  
> next chapter is a little up in the air because i have two oneshots to work on for the latter part of October but! im not giving up on this, of course, ill just continue doing my best!!  
> love you guys <3


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